Workshop Dreaming

I guess "rustic" wasn't in the forefront of my mind when I envisaged my dream workshop, although I've always considered that its setting should ideally bring me close to nature. The primitive outbuilding at the rear of our temporary home will function as my workshop - hopefully in the short term - and actually allows nature into the workshop! Needless to say, I'm prepared for my resolve and my adaptability to be tested in the months ahead.

Our cottage is simple but comfortable, but to state that the structure at the rear of the property that will function as my workshop is basic is to take the concept of understatement to new levels. I can deal with the uneven dirt floor, but it's the "air-conditioning" that is likely to provide the main challenge. I've taken the precaution of attaching a hygrometer to the wall behind the workbench; my guitars and I can seek refuge in the cottage whenever the relative humidity creeps outside of what I consider to be safe limits. In a controlled environment, I try to maintain a relative humidity of 45%, so alarm bells go off in my head when I see the gauge drop much below 40%, or begin to rise above 60%.

To take a pragmatic approach, I'm confident that if I pay close attention to the ambient temperature and relative humidity, the standard of my workmanship won't suffer, although my personal comfort may be less than optimal at times. Having said that, when I eventually have that dream workshop, you can bet I'll appreciate it!

Cheers
Pete

Reality Check

The anticipation of moving east to the little village of Stanley in south-eastern Australia was difficult to deal with at times; for too long I've looked forward to devoting the majority of my working days to building guitars!

Reality has bitten though, and the prospect of building - or having built - a purpose-built workshop seems a little further away since the verdict of our appointed building inspector was delivered on the house Sandi and I inspected during our scouting trip a few months ago. The building inspector's findings were off-putting to say the least, but not entirely unexpected given that we're downsizing in a serious way, and looking at properties whose age and condition is reflected in their low price tag!

The little rental property we've selected as a temporary home is cosy enough, and is at least located in the village we've committed to settling into. However, storage and working space is in short supply and the prospect of commencing any new guitars seems like a distant dream. There is hope, however, when I reflect on the fact that the woodworking aspect of the guitars I have under construction is complete, and the process of applying finish to them is at least within my grasp - weather permitting. It's unseasonably warm and dry at present and with the relative humidity outside plummeting to the low twenties through the day, I'm wary of submitting guitar bodies to such conditions for any length of time. Hopefully, this spell of warm weather won't last and I can prepare to spray some finish top-coats soon.

Short-beaked echidna - a recent visitor to our garden.

Cheers

Pete

The Call of the East

Stanley, known variously over the years as Snake Gully or Nine Mile Creek, is a small village located in a historic gold-mining area in Australia's south-east. It's primarily a nut and fruit growing area these days, but is home to a number of artists, artisans and - rumour has it - an odd assortment of eccentrics. I'm pleased to announce that, together with my partner Sandi, I'll soon be leaving the west behind and joining their ranks!

Approaching Stanley from the south

Along with this impending cross-country move, a significant downsizing will afford me the opportunity to build guitars in a more-or-less full-time capacity. What's more, with no pressing need to maximise output and profits, I can be totally self-indulgent and devote as much time as necessary to improving my guitar building skills, perhaps even diversifying a little into mandolin and ukelele construction. Most importantly, I'm looking forward to settling in a small community of like-minded people, and developing a more laid back approach to life in general, far from the hustle and bustle of the city. The stars are brighter too!

Cheers

Pete

Positioning the Bridge

There are several handy gauges and gadgets available that help the guitar builder determine the position of the bridge, but the method I've adopted works well enough that I haven't felt the need to try them out. To give credit where it's due, I believe I first saw the method I'm about to describe on Matt Mustapick's now defunct and sorely missed workshop blog.

On this particular Port Orford Cedar soundboard, the grain is incredibly fine and the centre join is extremely difficult to detect. I've lightly pencilled a line along the join to highlight it, then taped a sheet of graph paper to the soundboard with the centre grid line aligned with the pencil line. With the neck securely attached, I measure from the nut end of the fret board and mark the notional scale length on the graph paper - it's the longer of the three marks in the picture below.

I make a second mark a little under four millimetres further along the centreline to allow adequately for compensation, acknowledging that with wider saddles gaining favour among many builders these days - myself included - there's plenty of scope for fine-tuning of intonation once the guitar is strung up.

I measure the distance from the centre of  the saddle slot to the front of the bridge at its mid-point, then measure back from the compensated mark on the paper towards the nut by the same distance, placing a third mark on the graph paper to represent the front edge of the bridge. I extend this mark outwards in either direction.

The underside of the bridge has been sanded to conform to the dome of the soundboard, initally using a domed platform to which I've stuck some 120-grit sandpaper, and then, by way of fine tuning, by taping some 240-grit sandpaper to the soundboard itself then moving the bridge to and fro across the sandpaper until the white pen marks I covered the bridge underside with have been removed.

I insert a clamp through the soundhole, positioning a piece of MDF that conforms to the bridge plate outline inside the body and over the bridge plate as I do so. With the bridge clamped lightly in place over the graph paper, I wriggle it into position, using my third mark to align the bridge's front edge at its mid-point, and the grid lines that run perpendicular to the soundboard centreline to align the bridge's front corners. The clamp is tightened, and I drill through the first and sixth bridge pin holes so that the bridge can be accurately pinned in position when the time comes to permanently attach it to the soundboard. The MDF inside the body prevents chipping when the point of the drill bit exits the bridge plate.

Removing the bridge, I replace the graph paper with a thin, low-tack adhesive film known as frisket film. I give the film a light scuff with fine sandpaper so it's easier to mark. I pin the bridge into position through the first and sixth bridge pin holes, and lightly mark the bridge outline onto the frisket. I remove the bridge and, using a craft knife, carefully cut through the frisket around 3/16" inboard of the pencil line, being careful not to cut into the top wood. I can then peel off the frisket that sits outside the scored line. I've found that by leaving a generous margin between the edge of the remaining film and the actual bridge outline, it's much easier to level-sand and buff the finish in the area of the bridge perimeter, bearing in mind that the frisket film is removed only when the finish has been buffed and I'm ready to remove the remainder of the finish within the bridge outline prior to permanently gluing the bridge.

In the interests of a neatness, I'll leave around 1/16" of finish inboard of the bridge outline, and rout a ledge fractionally over 1/16" wide around the underside of the bridge perimeter to a depth equivalent to the target finish thickness. To do so, I clamp my laminate trimmer to a MDF platform that's been domed to replicate the curvature of my soundboard. To prepare the MDF, I laminated two 3mm layers of MDF in my go-bar deck using a 25' radius dish as a base, then drilled a hole in the centre large enough to accept my chosen router bit. As previously described, the underside of the bridge has been sanded to conform to the dome of the soundboard before I rout the ledge.

As always, I'm open to suggestions and I welcome any comments.

Cheers
Pete

Pop Goes the Rosewood!

I know it's unfashionable in some quarters to get too enthusiastic about East Indian Rosewood, but after applying a first coat of epoxy pore-fill to the back of this guitar, I feel justified in getting just a little bit excited. Let's hope it sounds as good as it looks!

Cheers
Pete

Software for Luthiers: New Version of Luthier's Workbench Released

Luthier's Workbench is a software application built with the instrument builder and repairer in mind.

It's been some time since I released a new version, due mainly to the fact that recent changes have not been particularly significant. However, there have been enough of them now that it's high time I made the effort to release an update.

Click the image for a larger view.

Adding to the motivation for doing so is a recent support call that related to a user's inability to save changes to the application database. He had been able to add and edit records previously, but error messages suddenly began appearing, seemingly for no reason. Before I'd had time to investigate, the user saved me any effort and discovered for himself that the attributes of the folder in which the data file is stored had somehow been set to "read only" at some point.

He was able to resolve the problem himself without difficulty, but to avoid the problem altogether, I've made changes to the program logic in the new version so that the folder attributes are explicitly set to "read/write" every time the application is started.

You can see a summary of the changes incorporated in the new version HERE. 

For anyone who hasn't encountered this software before, here's a summary of its capabilities:

For the Builder

* Record woods, hardware and finish materials for your instruments.

* Record dimensions, weights, deflection measurements and resonant frequencies for any instrument part.

* Record standard model features as well as popular options such as soundports, bevels or fanned-frets.

* Assign prices to each model and build option offered to automate calculation of instrument prices.

* Enter finish schedules and notes to serve as a valuable reference for future builds.

* Use the Image Gallery feature to link images to individual instruments.

* Store address and contact details for all your customers and suppliers.

For the Repairer

* Build a price list for the repair services you offer as well as parts either sold directly or used in repair work.

* Automate the preparation of quotes by selecting from your list of repair services and parts.

* Print quotes, invoices, receipts, job sheets and build specifications.

* Keep track of quoted jobs, incomplete and completed work, as well as jobs requiring an invoice.

* Identify unpaid invoices.

* View customer build and repair job histories.

* Compare income and expenses and keep track of Sales Tax/GST/VAT.

* Filter income and expenses by a date or date range.

 You can download a free, fully-functional 30-day trial version HERE.

Cheers

Pete

Progress - Slow, But Relentless

Despite my slow progress, I'm pretty happy with the way this one's shaping up and amazed - yet again - how completing the gluing of the bindings restores the resonance that's lost when the channels for the purfling and bindings are routed.

Cheers
Pete